


Even Superheroes Need Bachelor Parties

by LightningStriking



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Yay Vegas!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 16:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6016285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningStriking/pseuds/LightningStriking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Step 1) Propose to the love of your life.<br/>Step 2) Pick a best man.<br/>Step 3) Discover you're going to have a bachelor party, whether you like it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Superheroes Need Bachelor Parties

**Author's Note:**

> An apologetically fluffy piece, made specially for International Fanwork Day! Thanks to my fellow Stucky fan for the awesome prompt. I hope you enjoy :)

As Steve stared out the window of the high rise hotel, the lights of the strip sparkling like jewels, yet with a gleam that just _seemed_ illicit, he wondered what the hell he’d been thinking. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes at himself, yet continued to take in the view far, far below. He _hadn’t_ been thinking, because absolutely none of this had been his idea.

            He hadn’t even considered it, when he’d walked into the Avengers summit meeting hand in hand with Bucky, happiness leaving him grinning like an idiot. That had been enough to raise eyebrows from those of the team who were more accustomed to his long suffering dad expressions, as Natasha called them. Yet Hawkeye, true to his name, had immediately noted the brand new ring on Bucky’s finger, and instantly the two were swamped with congratulations, hugs, back slaps, questions of when the wedding would be, and Tony demanding to know who was wearing the dress. Bucky instantly replied he hoped Tony would, as maid of honor. Finally it took Fury, who had been wearing his usual expression of resigned annoyance at the world in general and his team specifically, to yell at them all to shut the hell up because they had a mission to debrief, to silence the group.

            Even then, flushing at the attention but appreciating the sincerity of everyone’s enthusiasm, Steve still hadn’t seen the bigger picture. In the nights since he’d proposed to Bucky, and thanked God above that they both now existed in a time where he could proudly marry the only person he’d ever loved and shout it to the world, the men had lain in bed, smiles on their faces as they talked about what kind of wedding they wanted. Things Steve used to dream about as a small kid in Brooklyn, thinking they would never be anything but that – just dreams. The basics had been easy enough to agree on – they wanted a small affair, only the people close to them present. After all, given the time both men had spent on ice, they didn’t exactly have a giant circle of acquaintances to invite, and that would never have been their style anyway. Granted, Vanity Fair _had_ called the instant the sharp eyed paparazzi had spotted the ring, desperate to be invited to what they assumed would be the gala of the year. Tony had been forced to personally delegate the task of calling back all the reports he’d assured would be invited to what _he’d_ assumed would be the event of the century, after Bucky had informed Tony there would be no gala, absolutely no reporters, and if Tony tried to force his input on anything from the guest list to what color socks Steve would wear, he’d live to regret it. Bucky refused to reveal precisely what threat he’d made towards Tony during this private conversation, but whatever it was, it had been effective enough to have Tony promise he’d show up to the ceremony with Pepper, an embarrassingly extravagant gift, and not lift a finger to “help” with the wedding.

            Steve should have known better at that point. After all, Tony had a way with words Steve had to admire even as he despaired it. Stark could sell water to a drowning man, and leave him smiling as he paid. So while Tony was true to his word, and didn’t do anything _wedding_ related, it had sure left a hell of a lot outside of that open to interpretation.

            Yet Steve couldn’t even blame Tony entirely, and that was a shock. No, it had been Sam’s idea. Sam, who had been incredibly touched when Steve asked if he would be his best man, and had pulled him into a back slapping hug before either of them could get too emotional. Steve had envisioned this duty simply meant standing on his left on the big day, maybe giving him a few encouraging pep talks if Steve felt a case of nerves coming on. But alas, while he was generally caught up on the major points of living in the twenty first century, Steve had missed one. One minor, inconsequential point. Until he decided to propose to Bucky that is. Bachelor parties.

            Sam had interrupted their next meeting to reveal via PowerPoint the detailed, elaborate, and frankly alarming itinerary he’d pulled together for a wild bachelor party in Vegas. Tony had immediately cackled and rubbed his hands together, stating it had been far too long since he’d graced Sin City with his presence, and he would be calling his accountant immediately to discussing bank rolling this adventure. Clint had exchanged a high fived with Rhodey, both of them wearing serious expressions that left Steve frankly uneasy for the safety of the city and its residents. Natasha had smiled, saying she had just the dress for it. Thor had declared loudly that pre-martial revels were the best sort of revels, and he looked forward to following each Midgardian tradition with his good friends. Bruce had just sighed.

            Steve had frankly had been terrified by the whole concept, images of the film The Hangover, which had been recently featured at the weekly Avenger movie night, playing in his head. He’d been about to insist there was no need – and no way in hell – he was having a bachelor party. Yet when Steve had turned to Bucky, he’d stopped, absorbed the smile on Bucky’s face, watched the way those dark eyes lingered on the projection screen now flickering through photos of the Strip. “That sounds fun,” Bucky had said, squeezing Steve’s hand. Fury yelled that this was a meeting of the nations’ top secret intelligence agency to discuss the situation in Belgrade, not a God damn party planning agency, and had then tossed Sam’s Vegas Bachelor Bonanza DVD out the window. So that had been that.

            And before Steve knew what was what, they’d been crowding into Stark’s private jet, Pepper momentarily pulling him aside to inform him she’d programmed her cell number, Fury’s cell number, and the local Swat team’s number into his phone, and to please use them ‘when’ the party got out of hand. Hardly the most inspiring send off, and Steve wondered just how much trouble a squad of superheroes could get into. But before he could contemplate it too long, there was a knock at the door of his room - no sharing before the wedding, Sam had insisted imperiously - and Steve pulled it open, every fearful and slightly gloomy thought flying from his mind the instant he saw Bucky standing before him.

            Hair pulled back loosely into a messy bun, Bucky wore a midnight blue shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, the first few buttons undone, tucked into sharp black dress pants, the buckle of his shiny black belt a gleaming silver. Mouth falling open, Steve was already planning just how he could circumvent the room assignments when Bucky grinned at him, that heartbreaking smile which still had the power to leave Steve feeling dizzy, and gestured at Steve. “Clean up pretty nice, Rogers.” Dressed similarly, Steve also wore a snug dark grey vest over his deep red shirt.

            “We are pretty hot,” he acknowledge, then grinned as Bucky laughed and pulled him out of the doorway, out to the common area of the suit where the rest of the bachelor party was already assembled. Smiling at the cheers that greeted the couple’s arrival, he took a breath, let it out, and accepted one of the shot glasses that Sam was passing around.

            Holding his hand up until he had the floor, Sam raised his glass and declared, “Here’s to my main man Steve, his awesome husband-to-be Bucky, and to one hell of a night.”

            “One hell of a night!” echoed throughout the room, before shots were tossed back, and the night officially began.

 

 

“She may not be as tall, but she’s just as sexy,” Bucky stated definitively, both Steve and himself admiring the lady in question. Biting his lip, cocking his head to the side, Steve ignored Natasha and Clint, who were standing to his right, taking increasingly ridiculous selfies, the last, Natasha holding Clint effortlessly bridal style. He was too busy considering the female before him to bother listening to Tony suggesting more poses, none of them legal in public, even in a place as freewheeling as Vegas.

            “She’s got style. But she can’t compare to the original,” Steve finally decided, smiling down at Bucky, who turned to link his hands behind Steve’s neck, a smirk on his far too sexy mouth.

            “Elitist,” Bucky accused.

            “New Yorker,” Steve corrected, even as he tucked his hands into the back pockets of Bucky’s pants.

            “Same fucking thing,” Bucky laughed, and Steve had to give in and laugh along with him, knowing full well the brunet wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t going to argue, knowing his Brooklyn pride was bred into his bones, and not wanting to change it a bit.  

           Sam had been militant with his schedule, insisting he’d planned it down to the minute to maximize the fun, yet he’d failed to take into account that trying to get all the Avengers to the same place by a specified time without an invading alien force to motivate them along was harder than herding cats. Steve had to admire Sam’s persistence though, as he continued to steer them along, no matter how many times he had to retrieve the one or more members who wandered off due to short attention spans and far too many shining, sparkling, enticing sights everywhere they turned.

            They’d lost Thor first simply walking through the casino of the Bellagio, on the way to the limo hired to shepherd them along the predestined course Sam had so painstakingly organized. Natasha had wondered how this was possible considering Thor quite literally stood out in a crowd, his size leaving his heads above mere mortals. It was Bruce who had found him, standing at one of the countless bars, a hoard of admiring, scantily clad women clustered around him. But for his part, Thor paid them no mind, instead grinning when he spotted the rest of the team, beckoning them over with a wave of his massive arm, nearly taking out one of the women standing dangerously near, and sending the rest into tremors at the sight of all that Asgardian muscle in action.

            “My friends!” he boomed, gesturing at the shots lined up on the bar. “I understand partaking in beverages of an alcoholic nature is an integral part of your bachelor party customs. Come, I have procured drinks for all of us! Something one of these maidens recommended, called a Mang Tini.” In his time of earth, Thor had discovered that Midgardian alcohol had no effect on him, but not for lack of trying. Regardless, he loved all the “novel beverages” humans came up with, and was always eager for a new taste experience. The rest of the group looked at one another rather wearily at the idea of drinking anything named a Mang Tini, but knew better than to turn down the shot. And so, with another round of cheers to the grooms to be, they’d all thrown back the shots, immediately adopting expressions that ranged from confusion to horror.

            “Dear God I need a whiskey,” Tony had gasped the moment he’d managed to swallow the fruity concoction.

            “It tasted like the butts of a thousand mangos,” Clint lamented.

            “I think I’d prefer my next drink was just a beer,” Bruce offered diplomatically.

            After that, there had been a few more incidents getting them all to the limo, such as when Rhodey, riding on the surprisingly strong effects of the Mang Tini, had after overhearing several Naval men in uniform loudly disparage the Army felt the need to inform them of the error in their ways. Fortunately, when that discussion had headed from verbal to physical, Clint had managed to provide a distraction. In the form of winning several thousand dollars at the roulette table he’d decided to play to pass the time while Rhodey schooled the ignorant sailors. “Really, it’s just all about calculating the speed, accelerating and angle of the ball drop, cross referencing where the dial was when they started spinning it-” Clint had helpfully been trying to explain to an impressed Tony, while Natasha quickly scooped up his winnings and steered him away from the eagle eyed floor managers who had been staring at Clint with far too much interest, none of it good.

            Even so, they’d eventually made it, Sam looking more harassed by the second as they deviated from his master plan, and were practically shoved inside the limo which to Steve now felt more resembled prisoner transportation from the way Sam threatened if any of them tried to pull over the limo or just leap from a moving vehicle, he would be forced to get mean. No one knew what that entailed but when Tony looked curious enough to ask, Steve silenced him with a look. And finally they made it to their first official stop of the night – the New York, New York.

            Never having had reason to investigate Vegas, the city only gaining notoriety after he’d been frozen, Steve hadn’t realized a hotel and casino fashioned over his favorite city had even existed, and found himself touched that Sam had made it their first destination. Now, staring up at the Statue of Liberty with Bucky, the men were debating her merits in comparison to the original. Buck thought she looked just as good. Steve, who was an elitist New Yorker apparently, thought anything other than the original was just second best.

            “She’s impressive, I’ll give you that Buck. But yeah, you just can’t compare to the real Lady Liberty.” But even though she didn’t have the size or history of the original, he had to admit, he was enthralled . “Alright, I have to say it Sam, this is pretty awesome,” Steve smiled at his best man, who grinned back and slapped him and Bucky both on the shoulders before giving them a helpful shove towards the casino entrance.

            “Cap, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

            The completely self-satisfied and slightly sinister tone of voice _should_ have tipped Steve off, but he’d been too busy staring around, marveling at the detail and architecture inside the casino. Bucky teased it was a good thing there were no alleys in between the “buildings” which were simply false fronts lining the walls inside the enormous structure, because if there had been Bucky would be sure to lose Steve down one of them as he got into a fight. Steve rolled his eyes, replying with a muttered “Jerk.”

            “Punk,” Bucky replied cheerfully, catching Steve’s hand in his own, swinging their clasped hands happily between them. Unable to resist, Steve grinned and leaned in to kiss his fiancée. Bucky dropped his hand as quickly as he had grabbed it, in favor of wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist instead, returning the kiss enthusiastically. The cat calls and whistles didn’t penetrate the delightful fog that always clouded the rest of the world every time Bucky’s mouth was on Steve’s, and it wasn’t until Thor gave them a jesting shove which nearly sent the two genetically enhanced soldiers flying into a brick wall, that Steve remembered where they were. Clearing his throat, blushing to everyone’s delight, including his smirking lover, Steve loudly demanded where to next. And found himself regretting it when five minutes later, he was standing in front of the roller coaster he hadn’t noticed earlier was part of the casino.

            “No.”

            “Steve, you know you jump out of planes without a parachute on a regular basis, right?” Natasha pointed out as she eagerly craned her neck to see around the line of people in front of them.

            “Still no.”

            “Aw, come on Cap. Don’t worry, I’ll be there to protect you!” Clint grinned, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulder, the reassurance doing absolutely nothing to reassure Steve, considering Clint was swaying on his feet already. Steve had no idea how he’d managed it, because he never actually saw Clint procuring beers, but every time he looked at the archer, the man had a new bottle in his hand. It appeared he was trying to spend all his winnings on drinks, as fast as humanly possible.

            “Hell no.”

            “Language,” Tony replied mildly, smirking at the glare Steve threw his way, sipping casually on the whiskey Clint had found him on one of his stealthy side quests.

            Perhaps it _was_ silly, and Steve knew for a fact his reluctance had nothing to do with fear. He had no problem admitting that a roller coaster was likely far safer than his other recreational activities, such as diving out of planes into the ocean, or fighting alien invasions with nothing more than his shield. And given the off chance the car came off the rails and went free flying through the air, he knew it was statistically likely he’d survive the ensuing free fall. So no, Steve wasn’t afraid. Of death or dismemberment, that was. No, Steve had an entirely different . . . _apprehension_ let’s say. Steve was definitely concerned about throwing up.

            Eighty odd years ago it may have been, but riding the Cyclone with Bucky was indelibly burned into his memory. Specifically the part where he’d managed to lose his lunch violently as a result of the oldest functioning rollercoaster in the United States mixed with far too much carnival food. True, he had a super-serum enhanced body now that hadn’t threatened nausea over the bumpiest of plane rides or questionable greasy fast food. But the humiliation of tossing his cookies in front of Bucky, who had just about died laughing even as he solicitously tried to hunt down some water and medicine was not something Steve would soon forget. Or recover from, apparently. And while he now knew, after in-depth research on just what to expect at a bachelor party, that the groom-to-be throwing up at some point was generally a given, he’d figured that considering he couldn’t get drunk he’d be able to avoid that portion of the evening’s entertainment, no problem. Clearly Sam had other ideas.  

            “Why don’t you all just go without me?” he suggested, before looking at Bucky. And groaning. Because, _damn it_ , Bucky was wearing that face – the one that could get Steve to agree to anything. It had worked the first time, and apparently Steve was just as weak as he’d been eighty odd years ago, because it was working again.

            Grinning, tasting his triumph, Bucky yanked Steve towards the line, and before he quite knew what was what, he found himself strapped into the roller coaster car along with everyone save Bruce, who had said that was one life experience the Other Guy could do without. Despite their love for Bruce, no one had argued. Instead they laughed when they witnessed Bruce being suddenly overtaken by what appeared to be a flock of sequins covered chorus girls that had been passing by, the gorgeous females clearly targeting the lone male separated from his herd.

            Chuckling with the rest of them as he heard Bruce saying in a slightly panicked voice, “No thanks, I don’t want a photo,” the sound abruptly cut off when the car started moving.

            “You’ll be fine, baby,” Bucky promised, patting Steve’s hand which had a death hold on the safety harness. Steve would have made some sort of smartass reply, but that required opening his mouth and he was determined not to do that until the ride was safely over. So instead he just rolled his eyes, then felt them widen when the car finally finished its initial climb and launched them all down the other side.

            And just like kissing Bucky, Steve discovered rollercoasters had the same ability to make everything else disappear. Feeling the wind rush over his face, his stomach in his throat, his heart thumping as he was tossed left, right, then upside down, he dimly heard Tony, Sam and Natasha laughing like lunatics. Rhodey was screaming in a way he would later deny resembled a young female co-ed as she was being chopped to death by an ax murderer. Clint was dangerously silent which made Steve wonder if after all those drinks he wasn’t the only one in danger of erupting more violently than the Bellagio fountains. And Thor, the Norse God of Thunder, was whooping and shouting, beside himself with enjoyment, and apparently deaf to Tony who was also shouting, _at_ Thor to stop the unexpected and instantaneous storm he’d conjured up with his enthusiasm. “Lots of lightening and a big metal conductor that we’re currently sitting in – not a good idea buddy!” Tony shouted as they were inverted in a loop of the track, Bucky throwing his hands in the air in delight.

            Fortunately when sprinkles hit them with the force of bullets and Natasha leveled death threats at Thor if he ruined her dress, he collected himself enough to banish the clouds as quickly as they had come, just in time for them to come to a screeching halt. Finally daring to let go of his death grip on the metal that he knew would now forever bear the imprint of his hand, Steve managed to turn to Bucky, who was giving him a crazed grin, his hair in unfairly sexy disarray. Behind them, the rest of the car were all still laughing and exclaiming over how fun the ride had been. Waiting a beat, then two to make sure his stomach was back down in his abdomen where it damn well was supposed to be, Steve risked opening to his mouth to say. “You all are fucking lunatics.”

            The lot of them stumbled out of the car, Steve ignoring the protest, words of indignation, and Tony insisting he was going to start a swear jar for Steve’s filthy mouth, they all fell still when they came face to face with Bruce who was still standing there. But now, he had a feather boa wrapped haphazardly around his neck, the unmistakable imprints of red lipstick all over his face, glitter and sequins clinging to him in a shimmering haze. His voice aggrieved, he pointed at them as they all stared at him. “You are _never_ leaving me alone in this town again.”

 

 

Six hours later found the Avengers assembled before the Bellagio once more, all of their ranks accounted for, though some were worse for wear. Sam was simply grateful they were all still present, not in police custody, and not dead. He solemnly swore he would never again be held responsible for the well-being and coordination of the group of “adults” again. Steve couldn’t blame him.

            The night might not have gone precisely the way Sam had imagined. There had been the little matter of Clint nearly getting arrested after clambering with a stunning agility, considering his drunken state, to the top of one of the Roman statues surrounding Caesar’s Palace. Fortunately Natasha had talked them out of that one. Steve had worried he’d have to intercede when they managed to run into the same group of sailors Rhodey had defended the Army’s honor to prior that evening. Yet with the kind of magic that only exists with the right combination of alcohol, ego, and comradery, Rhodey and the sailors had managed to evolve from bitter enemies into the type lifelong friendship that only lasts the night. Interestingly enough, it was Bruce they’d come closest to losing, due to the fact he had some sort of animal magnetism which the woman of Vegas could not resist. Despite his firm and increasingly desperate insistence he wasn’t interested, Bruce had nearly been flat out abducted by the packs of women who roamed the streets like man-eating, sexy, high heel wearing, pretty smelling gang members.

            Yet somehow, they’d all made it out on the other end, so now they all watched as music glided through the air and water danced before them. As Steve stood there, observing the wonder with eyes that had seen a thousand sights, but never anything like this, he felt overcome at what his team, his _friends_ , had done for him. Almost as though he’d heard Steve’s thoughts, a possibility the blond wasn’t willing to dismiss, Bucky leaned his head on Steve’s shoulder. “This was an incredible night.”

            Arm wrapped around Bucky’s waist, holding him close, Steve gazed around at the people who surrounded them. Natasha, who watched the fountain show with a face that had rarely look so serene, even as she kept a hand on Clint’s belt as he slumped over the low wall ringing to pool, her grip keeping him from falling in. Clint appeared to be passed out but for the fact he would occasionally start soliloquizing over his love of pizza. Rhodey, wearing a naval hat compliments his new friends, clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You did good man.” Sam grinned. Thor was exclaiming over the marvels of the fountains, the likes of which had never been seen on Asgard, gesturing with his three foot long pink plastic margarita glass.   Tony was several feet away, haggling over the price of light-up novelty glasses, as though he couldn’t afford to purchase the entire stand, much less the entire strip it stood on. Bruce simply looks relieved the night had drawn to an end and he was relatively near the safety of his room.

            “It really was,” Steve agreed. Knowing the best part of all, was that at the end of this night, and every night to come, Bucky was his.  

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked what you read, comments make my day!


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